


reservation (crave affection)

by euphoricland



Category: ONEUS (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Barebacking, Bruises, Choking, Dirty Talk, Enemies, Face-Fucking, Fist Fights, Grinding, Hand Jobs, Hate Sex, Insults, M/M, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Shower Sex, Sports, Swearing, Wall Sex, but like for a second, demeaning language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:02:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23607991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/euphoricland/pseuds/euphoricland
Summary: Geonhak walks out of the health center with ice pressed to his lip, hand sore from punching too hard.He stumbles under the bright sun, passes other students trying to get to class.  He has to get back to the fields, needs to finish practice.His lip is throbbing and his anger hasn’t exactly subsided but he knows their coach is already mad at him and delaying getting to practice isn’t going to make things better.
Relationships: Kim Geonhak | Leedo/Lee Seoho
Comments: 45
Kudos: 215





	reservation (crave affection)

**Author's Note:**

> here's my contribution to the seoho/leedo movement

Geonhak grits his teeth, rips his arms away from Youngjo and Yonghoon. He stumbles forward with the momentum and he leans into it, fist raised as it connects with the hard line of Seoho’s jaw.

He hears the whistle blowing and then his world turns around as Seoho spears into him, head colliding painfully with his shoulder as his own hand lands a punch at the side of Geonhak’s face.

Geonhak’s shocked into a couple of more punches before his adrenaline kicks in, he lets out a growl, mad sounding, threatening, as his knee raises with enough power to knock the air out of Seoho, he bristles when he hears the sound of it rush out of his body, takes the chance to roll them over, having just enough time to land one last punch. The impact rings loudly between them, he feels like time stops as his fist collides with the soft flesh of Seoho’s cheek and the loud crack of it, sickening and angry, echoes over him.

And then he’s being dragged off Seoho, he knows it’s Yonghoon from the smell of his cologne, doesn’t get to protest much as Yonghoon dumps him to the side. He scrambles to get up, get to Seoho again but Yonghoon pushes him back into the grass, his palms land painfFully against the dirt, he looks up at Yonghoon, anger spiking up.

“Don’t you dare fucking look at me like that,” Yonghoon hisses.

His voice is dark, angry and Geonhak swallows nervously at how foreign it is. 

He stays still, turns his gaze to where Yonghoon is looking.

Seoho is still struggling under Youngjo’s hold, arms and legs flailing.

Poor Youngjo takes a couple of blows, collateral damage.

Geonhak scoffs, notices the metallic taste coating the inside of his mouth. He runs his tongue over the roof of his mouth, turns his head to spit into the grass. Blood splatters over the patches of dirt. 

“Childish,” Geonhak runs his thumb over his busted lip, voice condescending.

Yonghoon turns to roll his eyes at him.

-

Geonhak walks out of the health center with ice pressed to his lip, hand sore from punching too hard.

He stumbles under the bright sun, passes other students trying to get to class. He has to get back to the fields, needs to finish practice. 

His lip is throbbing and his anger hasn’t exactly subsided but he knows their coach is already mad at him and delaying getting to practice isn’t going to make things better.

He’s lost in these thoughts when someone bumps into him. He turns quickly and his frustration flares again when he sees Seoho. His hair is pushed back, wet with sweat and from where he’s messily pressing his own pack of ice to his jaw.

Geonhak’s eyes look away from Seoho’s bared forehead, from the infuriating crescent shape of his smiling eyes.

“Let’s go back together,” he says.

Geonhak doesn’t stop walking, if anything picks up his speed.

He can’t believe how  _ dense  _ Seoho is, how he’s so unable to read a situation.

“Hey, didn’t you hear me?” Seoho asks, his hand reaching out to grab Geonhak’s elbow, pulls him back.

“Dude,” Geonhak pulls back his elbow from Seoho, glares, “didn’t I just send you here?”

He motions to the health center, then to the ice Seoho is currently holding.

Seoho tenses a little at that, “we’re going to the same place we’re going to be walking together anyway.”

Geonhak lets out a shuddering breath, his stomach is tightening again, he can feel frustration flare into anger.

“Get away from me before I punch you again,” he seethes, voice low. 

Seoho stops walking, hand going limp, lips threatening to curl into a snarl.

“You’re so fucking annoying,” Seoho grits out, fist balling tight, knuckes white, “you’re so lucky there was people there to stop me.”

Geonhak laughs at that, looking Seoho down, eyes steely, he opens his arms, challenging “There’s no one here, I’ll like to see you try.”

Seoho stares back at him, eyes calculating before he walks again, pushes Geonhak out of the way as he stomps his way back to practice.

It does nothing to placate Geonhak’s bubbling rage. He takes in a breath to calm down, not wanting to get into more trouble.

-

When they get back to the field, practice is over. Their coach doesn’t tell them anything. They aren’t left off easy, Geonhak sits on the grass as he watches the rest of the team leave, coach already gone.

Seoho sits a couple of feet away from him, legs drawn to his chest.

“I’m not doing this all on my own,” Geonhak grumbles, talks to the air in front of him, doesn’t look at Seoho.

“Just shut up and do it,” Seoho answers, voice clipped.

They spend a couple of minutes picking up stray soccer balls, bright orange cones. 

Seoho lugs around his netted bag behind him, dragging it through the grass. He’s a bit faster than Geonhak, finishes first. 

Geonhak realizes Seoho isn’t coming back after a couple of minutes pass by. The goal posts are still up and it means he has to take them out on his own.

Again he feels his annoyance ebb into something harsher and he can’t help the way he forcefully shoves cones into his own bag.

He’s reckless as he stuffs the equipment into the shed, struggling to hold on to the metal poles of their goalposts. His chest rises with his exertion and his head is pounding with his nerves, on edge, wanting nothing but to get to Seoho and finish what they couldn’t in the field.

The locker room is empty but through the silence he can just make out the sounds of running water from the shower stalls in the back.

He starts to walk towards it, body fueled by all the unpleasant feelings he’s been harboring for the boy since he joined the team.

Geonhak’s feelings storm together, anger and annoyance, rage, at how easily Seoho had just walked in and just taken over. 

His smile wide and happy, bright, eyes creasing cutely.

He shakes his head, for some reason slows his steps. He doesn’t want to let the other know he’s there, wants to catch him by surprise.

When he walks in Seoho isn’t in the first stall or the second or third. Geonhak rounds the corner into the next line of showers but his ears hear nothing, he keeps walking. Until he’s at the last row of them and he can see steam rising from the end.

Geonhak braces himself, anger flashing again. He’s all heated up and ready for another bout of punches, anything to finally prove to Seoho that he’ll never be at Geonhak’s level.

And then, as his eyes meet the endless plains of milky skin, glistening with the spray of water, Geonhak stops. The fight leaves him and his eyes shift, his insults die in his throat, a low squeak. It echoes against the linoleum and Seoho turns to look at him.

There’s a moment of silence, Geonhak wills himself to keep looking away.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Seoho hisses, clearly peeved. 

Geonhak flinches at the hard edge of it, and his eyes, treacherous,  _ treacherous _ , eyes, follow the movement of Seoho’s hands, covering himself from Geonhak.

It’s awkward, he can’t look away from Seoho’s cupped hands, eyes stuck on the plush, strong lines of Seoho’s milky thighs.

“Ah,” Seoho says, voice low, it edges into a laugh, a bit hard, “is this what it’s all really about?”

Geonhak finally wills himself to escape his daze. He shakes his head rapidly, eyes flickering to the shower wall behind the other boy. The sound of the running water rushes against his ears, the drip drop of it hitting the stone floor. 

The heat of the water has him feeling a little too hot, there’s sweat starting to bead over his skin, mouth parched.

He knows he should probably turn around, probably close his eyes at the very least. _Leave_.

Seoho’s laugh returns, a full on giggle that makes Geonhak snap his eyes back on the other boy. His hands have dropped away and Geonhak can’t do anything but stare. His skin feels like it’s been set on fire, nerves pin pricking.

“If you liked me,” Seoho says, voice on edge, “you should have just told me you wanted me to fuck you.”

Geonhak bristles at Seoho’s tone, words. His jaw clenches.

“You like me, _Geonhakie_?” Seoho taunts, grinning at him, eyes curving, “you like what you see?”

The water is still falling, the steam makes it hard to breathe. 

Geonhak struggles on what to say, his eyes still unsure.

“You want hyung to fuck you, Geonhakie?” Seoho keeps going, words dripping with venom, skirting on mischievousness. 

Geonhak grits his teeth and it’s when Seoho looks at him, dead in the eyes, dark stare, that he finally feels the tension in him break.

His hands are on Seoho’s skin way too fast, overeager. He pushes the smaller boy against the shower wall, steps right under the spray of the warm water. It makes his clothes stick to him and he recoils at the uncomfortable feeling of the material clinging to his skin.

His fingers slip with the water falling over them but eventually manage a grip, snugly over Seoho’s neck.

His hold makes Seoho tilt his head, eyes meeting, and so like Seoho, unwavering challenging.

“You’re such a piece of shit,” Geonhak’s voice is low.

Seoho laughs, breathy, strained, Geonhak’s grip eases. His unrelenting stare burns him and in his haste to break eye contact his eyes drop down, gaze landing on Seoho’s half hard dick.

He swallows nervously, hopes to god Seoho hasn’t seen his reaction. He forces his mouth into a snarl, eyes peeling away, free hand pushing Seoho’s hip harshly into the wall.

“Why are you so excited?” he asks, cold toned, “you like all my attention on you?”

The sound of the water hitting the shower floor pounds in his ears, and it takes a while before Seoho finally answers.

“ _ Yes _ ,” he breathes out, cheeks staining pink,  _ from the steam _ , Geonhak thinks stupidly.

There’s a feeling bubbling inside him, something he can’t bring himself to understand, instead he pushes it away, misplaced anger that burns at the pit of his stomach. 

He digs blunt fingernails into the pristine white skin of Seoho’s jutting hip bones, watching as red blossoms over the crescent lines, forming into angry welts.

“Ah,” Seoho’s voice is small, it lacks the deviousness from before, pained, “you’re half hard too,” he spits out, as if asking Geonhak why he’s being punished for liking where he is.

“You came in here knowing how I’ll be,” Seoho keeps talking, never one to shut up, “you’re the one who keeps pushing and pushing to get something out of me.”

Geonhak’s hands go lax, there’s water running down his face, catching painfully in his eyes. He blinks the drops away, let’s go of Seoho’s neck, runs a hand to push the water away from his eyes, nose, lips.

“You’re such a fucking liar,” Geonhak says, heart thumping, the hand on Seoho’s hip is still there, clutching too hard, like he’s afraid it’s all in his head.

Seoho laughs at him, obviously enjoying getting something over Geonhak, his hands hang limply, and it forces Geonhak to admit to himself he’s the one holding on.

“Why do you hate me Geonhak?” Seoho asks, unbothered, the water has started to run warm, no longer hot.

“You never fucking stop talking,” Geonhak settles on, voice straining with his frustration, “all day long all you do is talk and talk and talk.”

Seoho doesn’t answer and it just forces Geonhak to keep talking.

“It’s grating, constantly hearing you speak, your voice, your laugh,” he pauses, taking in a shuddery breath, “the way you smile when you make fun of me.”

And Seoho, always one to press into a wound, smiles at that, coy, teasing, pretty.

“You’re looking at my smile, Geonhak?” Seoho teases, ignoring everything else Geonhak has said, “you’re that interested in me?”

Geonhak’s heart skips a beat, watching the way Seoho’s smile spreads wider, the peek of teeth, the shocking pink of Seoho’s tongue.

His chest feels hollow, burning from the fire inside him, flames licking the palms of his hands, fingers tingling.

“What else do you like about me Geonhak?” Seoho’s voice is soft, “besides my voice, laugh and smile?”

Geonhak blinks, face flushing, he splutters, “I didn’t say any of that,” he argues, face creasing into distaste, “don’t fucking put words in my mouth.”

Seoho’s gaze flickers to Geonhak’s hand, still on his hip, Geonhak finally lets go of him, abrupt, like he’s touched something forbidden.

Then there’s hands on him, holding on to the front of his t-shirt, pulling him in roughly, he stumbles with the slippery floor, hands colliding painfully with the shower wall, his mouth crashing with Seoho’s.

His teeth bite down hard on his lip, the sting of the cut quickly forgotten when Seoho’s tongue licks over it. The taste of blood is overwhelming but Seoho licks into his mouth until all he can taste is Seoho, the hot wet slide of their tongues, as the other boy seems dead set on devouring him.

It’s the ache of his jaw, the lack of air burning his lungs, that has Geonhak’s mind backtracking, going back into the feelings he has so easily when he sees Seoho.

His hands find purchase on Seoho’s body again, pushing him back, his own body collapsing over the other boy. Their hips touch and Geonhak shudders when he feels how hard Seoho is, when he realizes Seoho can feel just how hard _he_ is as well.

The hard length of Seoho’s dick is flush against Geonhak’s hip, hot and heavy and Geonhak’s thoughts stutter, hands skimming over the soft, hot skin of Seoho’s waist.

“Do you like me, Geonhakie?” Seoho asks, voice fading into a giggle, completely out of place but it propels Geonhak into action, half fueled by his anger.

His hand rises up to hold Seoho’s neck again, leaning closer until their noses almost touch, Seoho’s eyes looking right back at him.

“If you want me to fuck you,” Geonhak says, voice low, “just say it.”

The tension is building, between his shoulders, behind his eyes. It all comes rushing forward, all the jabbing remarks, all the not so accidental collisions during practice, all the almost fights and first punches. 

Seoho’s in front of him, naked, warm, eyes misty, lips rosy, bruised.

Seoho looks at him, infuriatingly calm, unchallenged.

“Do _you_ want to fuck _me_?” Seoho asks instead and he shifts enough, just enough that their hips align. Seoho’s cock presses against Geonhak’s and it’s enough of a surprise, his knees buckle, he holds on just in time, noise stuck halfway in his throat.

“You’re really hard,” Seoho observes, raising his hips from where Geonhak’s press of Seoho’s waist has gone lax, a slow, unsatisfying roll of hips that leaves Geonhak alarmed, caught off guard, _flustered_.

He hates the feeling, he hates not knowing what to expect, hates losing to Seoho like this. 

Geonhak pushes Seoho’s hips away, fingers tight as he keeps him in place, pressed to wall. It lets him lean in closer, crowd more into Seoho’s space.

Geonhak’s body covers Seoho’s completely. Body enveloping him whole, keeping him away from the rest of the world, just for Geonhak to have.

Geonhak starts his own pace, hips rolling languidly, coaxing tendrils of pleasure as their body’s meet together. Seoho’s dick is pink between them, long and pretty, curving upwards, twitching when Geonhak’s hips take way too long to meet his again.

Seoho’s looking down, at the way his naked cock seems incredibly hard from the attention, how Geonhak’s wet shorts cling and stick to Geonhak’s clothed dick. The line of it clearly showing, leaving nothing to the imagination.

Seoho groans at Geonhak’s movements, high pitched, sweet, needy.

“Not fair,” Seoho huffs, clearly trying to catch his breath, “take off your shorts.”

Geonhak doesn’t get to answer as Seoho’s hands move, intend of doing just what they ask. Fingers skim down the front of his shirt, drumming teasingly at the waistband of his shorts. But only for a second, Seoho’s desperation not completely veiled.

Geonhak doesn’t fight him on it, stopping his movements as Seoho begins to roll down his shorts, his underwear going with it. 

His dick springs forward, heavy, hard, red with all the teasing, all the back and forth that’s stretched out this moment. It twitches under Seoho’s attention, eyes going glassy, mouth dropping just a bit.

The heavy plop of his waterlogged shorts rings loud in his ears and all Geonhak can do is step out of them, kicking them away carelessly, more concentrated on Seoho.

“Now it makes sense,” Seoho laughs, and it grates on Geonhak’s ears, the nasty feeling of insecurity lapping at him.

“Don’t laugh when I have my dick out,” Geonhak grits out, jaw clenching.

Seoho’s laugh turns into a soft giggle, it’s the only warning he gets before there’s hands on his cock, small, soft hands, gliding down, then up, thumb wiping at the head.

It feels _too_ good, Geonhak’s brain supplies, all thoughts leaving him, all thoughts primal, hyperfocused on the boy with him,

He moans, when Seoho’s fingers dig into the slit, other hand squeezing hard, bordering on painful.

“You’re really big,” Seoho says, bringing his hand to pump him slowly, “why do you need to be so big for?” he asks.

Geonhak isn’t sure if he’s meant to answer, out of breath, trying hard not to let go of any more embarrassing sounds.

“Do you even use it enough to be like this?” Seoho keeps asking, clearly curious, “do you even know how to use it properly?”

He keeps stroking him, even with all his insults, implications, Seoho’s hand keeps on him, stroking him from the root of his cock all the way to the tip.

“Tell me Geonhakie, tell hyung why you need such a big cock for?”

The question sounds almost breathless, fragile. Geonhak’s brain has started to shut down, from the constant stimulus, Seoho’s hand’s slow, torturous, strokes, like he’s milking every single drop of precome he can. It’s beading at the tip, dripping unashamed from the attention.

It makes the glide even wetter, from the shower, from how much he’s already leaking. It’s messy, Seoho’s hand glistening from it.

“What’s wrong Geonhakie?” Seoho’s voice is lilting, playful, “dumb baby doesn’t know how to answer?”

Geonhak’s cheeks feel like they’re on fire, a rush of red flooding them, staining them, flustered.

He’s losing again and he’s not sure how to get the upper hand, stuck in Seoho’s words.

“Would suck you off,” Seoho says, nonchalant, “but someone bruised my jaw today…” he trails off. But it’s enough to incite Geonhak, who so desperately wants to use Seoho for his release. He’s frantic in the way he finds Seoho’s shoulders, pushes him down. The sound of Seoho’s knees meeting the hard floor makes him wince, feeling just a bit sorry.

Seoho’s hair is wet, dripping with now lukewarm water. Geonhak’s fingers grip there for a second, before dropping to place a thumb over Seoho’s plushed bottom lip, pressing until Seoho’s mouth drops open, tongue swiping over his lips to catch stray water drops.

“How about you open your mouth,” Geonhak nearly growls, brain finally catching up, “and let me answer all your questions.”

There’s a glint in Seoho’s eyes. And even with him, trapped between Geonhak’s body and the wall, dropped to his knees, mouth opened to be used, he feels defiant.

It angers Geonhak, who grips Seoho’s hair again, other hand keeping his cock in place, as he unforgivingly sinks his cock into Seoho’s mouth.

He feels Seoho gag more than hears it. He holds him in place, hips twitching impatiently at the warm heat of Seoho’s mouth and throat. Seoho’s eyes flutter close, his own hands digging into Geonhak’s thighs, pressing harder when Geonhak doesn’t let off.

When he pulls out Seoho coughs loudly, spluttering, fingers squeezing Geonhak’s thighs tighter. Geonhak’s hand is still gripping Seoho’s hair, his cock between them, slick, wet, twitching.

“Be careful,” Seoho seethes, voice scratchy, coarse, “you brat.”

Geonhak smirks, the hand holding his dick guiding it to Seoho’s mouth, rubbing precome all over his lips, trailing over his cheeks, chin.

He tries to push back into Seoho’s mouth but the other keeps his mouth close, lips sealed, eyes challenging, cheeks still glowing pink.

“Open your mouth,” Geonhak demands, but Seoho shakes his head.

They stare each other down until Geonhak finally decides to do something about it. He pulls Seoho back up, turns him around until his front hits the wall, Geonhak’s chest pressing to Seoho’s back.

“You’re so annoying,” Geonhak says, making sure to keep Seoho’s hips away from the way, heavy erection hanging between his legs with no friction.

He looks around the shower stall, eyes landing on Seoho’s shower things, little bottles of shampoo, toothpaste, lotion.

He reaches for the lotion, opens it hastily, squeezing way too much of it onto his fingers. It smells like lavender, a smell he’s gotten used to smelling whenever he and Seoho start shoving at each other.

He doesn’t tease, doesn’t warn Seoho as he pushes a finger in, probably way too fast, but he’s too caught up in the moment, shamefully anxious to finally feel Seoho around him.

He pushes it in and out only for a couple of seconds, adding another finger when Seoho is just starting to feel looser, impatient. 

Geonhak thrusts his fingers in and out in rapid movements, curling them every so often. He’s sure Seoho doesn’t hate it, his breathing hitching, cheeks a dark red, cock dripping.

“This shut you up, huh?” Geonhak says, has to take time to soak in a win. Seoho turns to look at him, eyes cloudy, mouth open around his breathing.

“Only two fingers?” Seoho asks, voice dipping into the devious tone he tends to get with him. It’s not subtle and it fuels Geonhak to ram his fingers into the other boy harder, curling just close enough to hit his prostate.

“Geonhakie,” Seoho mumbles, clearly lost for a second at the feeling, “when are you going to show hyung what you can do with a cock that big?”

Geonhak doesn’t say anything as he adds a third finger. It’s a tight feeling as he stretches Seoho open, not too kindly, rough as he lets Seoho’s words come back to him.

He’s sloppy as he pulls his fingers out, spreads more lotion over his dick, holding it tight at the base so he doesn’t come.

Seoho’s face is turned at the side, unable to properly look at Geonhak.

He doesn’t give Seoho enough time to taunt him again, instead breaching into him quickly. He doesn’t go slow, doesn’t let Seoho adjust. He pushes himself in, until all of his length is inside Seoho, his hips flushed with the back of Seoho.

Seoho tries to turn towards him, mouth open in what Geonhak can only imagine is another stupid question. 

“ _Ah_ ,” Seoho moans instead, Geonhak’s hips pulling away from him, slamming back into his hole with such force his hands slip against the linoleum tiled wall, body now pressed uncomfortably with it.

Geonhak’s hold on Seoho’s hips is like a vice grip, knuckles white, fingertips edging red blossoms of discomfort. Seoho’s body is burning hot, skin soft. Geonhak loses himself in the feeling, the way Seoho squeezes around his cock, the sounds of his sloppy thrusts, drilling into the other boy over and over again.

His eyes fall to where they meet, watches, awed, the way he enters and leaves him, appears and disappears deep into the older boy.

His speed must not be enjoyable for Seoho, he manages to think. His cheeks flush, thinking how Seoho is just there for him to use, taking whatever Geonhak gives him.

“Touch me,” Seoho says, voice a whimper, airy.

Geonhak doesn’t answer, instead keeps on pushing into Seoho, searching for his own pleasure. The water has turned cold, and it runs down his skin, a shocking contrast to Seoho’s hot _hot_ skin, the wet and searing heat of Seoho clamping down on him.

“Come just on my cock,” Geonhak finally speaks, thrusting particularly, hard, listening to the way the sound of their meeting skin rings over the shower stalls, “I’m sure my big cock can at least do that.”

It’s something meant to be mean, holding something over the other. Seoho doesn’t answer, doesn’t react at all as Geonhak changes his speed, pistoning into the other in deep measured thrusts, pulling out, the tip catching at the rim before slamming back in. 

“ _Ah, ah, ah_ ,” Seoho hisses, but he pushes back into Geonhak and it does something weird to Geonhak’s insides. 

“You’re in really deep,” Seoho murmurs, he arches his back, forehead resting on the wall, “it feels really good.”

Geonhak’s face heats up at the words, his cheeks color with a blush, ruddy, dark as it reaches his ears.

“I guess you do know how to use a big dick like yours,” Seoho keeps on talking, babbling. 

“How are you still talking,” Geonhak huffs, arms going around to wrap around Seoho’s middle, pulling him more down on his dick, “do you ever shut up?”

Seoho’s laugh blurs into a hiccup when the head of Geonhak’s cock nudges unexpectedly against his prostate, right dead center.

“ _Geonhak_ ,” Seoho whines, voice dragging, body starting to go limp and heavy, “you fill hyung so well.”

_ It feels good _ , Geonhak finally lets himself admit, the delicious drag of his hard length against Seoho’s insides, pushing in and out, deep and selfishly.

His thighs are starting to burn, taut from the friction, holding up the now boneless Seoho with him.

Seoho must be close to coming, he thinks, when he starts punching out little clipped moans from the other, little sounds that Geonhak never thought he would hear. They make his palms itch, toes curl. He drops his head against Seoho’s shoulder, keeping his own sounds to himself, breaths puffing out as he keeps going, tries to make one of them snap.

“Please come,” Seoho says, voice thin, quiet. 

It’s the first time he’s ever heard Seoho say anything resembling politeness, it catches him off guard and it’s all he needs, alongside Seoho purposely squeezing against him, to finally shoot his load into the other boy.

It shoots into Seoho in thick hot ropes, filling him up to the brim. It’s enough for him to start coming too, legs shaking as it rakes over him, stomach tightening, skin prickling into goosebumps. Seoho slumps, feels himself be dragged as Geonhak goes rigid with his orgasm, arms tightening around him, before they go limp in their hold, more or less just laying over Seoho’s body.

“Get off me,” Seoho says once he catches his breath, Geonhak is still stupid with orgasm and it takes him Seoho pinching him to finally respond.

He grimaces when he pulls out, he’s gone soft and he’s wet with the mess he’s made inside Seoho. He watches the way his come drips from Seoho’s hole, trailing down his thighs.

His mouth waters and his dick stirs in interests as he considers dropping to his knees and eating the other out.

But he’s brought out of his thoughts when he hears Seoho groan, clearly annoyed.

“The water is cold, how am I dirtier than before.”

Geonhak realizes they are both still very naked, looking at the splotches of mismatching bruises, discolored skin stretched thin over Seoho's hips. He feels embarrassed, even with what they have been doing just seconds ago, it stains his cheeks a soft pink again and Seoho looks at him with an unreadable look.

“Your clothes are over there,” Seoho says, nodding towards the sad lump of Geonhak’s clothes.

It’s an invitation to leave, even Geonhak knows that.

His throat feels strange, he swallows, nervous, confused.

He doesn’t say anything as he goes to pick up his things. He needs to shower too, walks down just enough to the last stall.

Geonhak turns on the water in a stupor, ears listening to the way Seoho turns the water off in his own stall.

He keeps his eyes down as Seoho passes by him, listens to him open his locker, the rustling of clothes, the noise of him haphazardly stuffing his things into his duffle bag. 

The locker door closes and then the steps of Seoho’s sneakers fade as he walks out.

**Author's Note:**

> ~~perhaps a part two?~~


End file.
